


The Invisible Wars

by thy_lynx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Community: dramione_advent, Community: dramione_duet, Community: dramione_remix, Community: dramionedrabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21644794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thy_lynx/pseuds/thy_lynx
Summary: After the war, students of Hogwarts went back to the castle to continue, or for some, finish their school year. Draco Malfoy did an unbreakable vow with Hermione Granger on their sixth year pledging his alliance to Dumbledore's Army. He never liked being a Death Eater, and despite his pride and spite to the boy who lived, he ended up seeking his help. But certain circumstances made him turn his back to them during the war. What could be the reason behind his betrayal? Will they survive their last year without any hindrance? And who are these Death Eaters on the loose killing pureblood families?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Blaise Zabini
Kudos: 1





	1. The return of the turncoat

In a blur, it was all over, the restoration period as the Ministry would like to call it. Two years of rebuilding whatever was destroyed.

But nothing is ever really restored.

Hermione sat in the train compartment, eyes vacant, watching the blur of green fields outside. She felt a hand reached hers and she looked up.

"Where have you been?"

Harry took the empty seat beside her. "I checked to see how much students are coming back this year."

Hermione dropped her eyes to her lap and resume on staring out the window. "And?"

"Not much."

She was counting the dead inside her head. A hand squeezed hers once again.

"It's going to be alright."

She watched Ron and Ginny, sleeping side by side opposite them. This was all familiar, they had sat in the same compartment, seen the same fields unfold in the distance, it should feel like they are coming home but she felt as though she was sinking the closer they get to Hogwarts.

"Are you sure that's safe?" She could hear Harry patting his wand on his knee and mumbling spells under his breath. Practicing. "You might end up blasting something here."

They were all under Auror training now, under the direction of Kingsley Shacklebolt the Minister of Magic. With many Aurors killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, the Ministry permitted any of-age participants in the Battle of Hogwarts to become an Auror immediately in the condition that they are to complete their final year of study.

"Sorry, I'm feeling a little—edgy."

The Scarlet train decelerated into a stop. The thestrals were the first thing that Hermione saw. She had never seen one before and having so many of them waiting below the platform turned her head into a spin.

She stalled behind Harry, Ron, and Ginny as they made their way out. There were murmurs coming from outside, students yelling in surprise as their eyes landed on the skeletal body of the winged creature. She scanned the crowd and saw her own fear reflected in the other students. Luna and Neville stood below, comforting the younger ones.

It was all too familiar.

A flash of the castle grounds, crumbled, that same expression of fear, the screaming.

"Hermione?"

There was too much happening.

"Hermione?"

A girl started crying.

My sister. An image of a lifeless body on the floor.

"Hermione are you alright?"

She gasped. Her hands flew to her forehead to wipe sweat, three pairs of eyes watching her. "Sorry I just—" She looked around for something to focus on, anything to distract her, and she saw a speck in the distance.

His proud posture and icy glare. He tilted his chin and Hermione glared back until Harry led them outside the platform.

"You looked like you saw a ghost." Ginny told her once they were seated on the carriage that would take them to the castle.

"Did you know he'll be coming back?"

"Who?"

"Malfoy."

"I know his family has been granted a reprieve." It was headlined in the Daily Prophet along with a photo of Lucius and Narcissa standing behind their son. He was cowering away from the camera, all trace of arrogance gone. The first of the Death Eaters to be released from Azkaban. It caused a massive outrage from the Wizarding community, but what shook them the most is finding out that the testimonies that set them free came from the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter, and his friend, Hermione Granger.

She did not get to see him during the trial, nor after he was freed. The Malfoys disappeared from the public eye since that news came out, until now.

"If he's back, does it mean..." Hermione started, her eyes on Harry.

Harry squinted. "I don't think he's planning to be an Auror."

"Maybe he just wants to finish his education, now that there's no Dark Lord breathing down his throat." Ginny said.

"Or maybe he ran out of house elves to torment and he's bored." Ron added.

Hermione glowered at the thought. She shifted on her seat to face the surrounding trees. There was nothing beyond but shadows, the right amount of stark darkness her mind needed to conjure up her nightmares. The screams, the sparks in the distance that seemed real, the acrid smell of death, and the copper taste in her mouth. She shut her eyes. Hogwarts was their home.


	2. Ice

Minerva McGonagall sat in the staff table, occupying the throne-like chair at the center. As part of the tradition, the Start-of-Term Feast was held and her eyes, for lack of any interesting view to see but for Hagrid’s new lizard pet gobbling down the contents of his plate, swept through the house tables.

She saw them on her farthest left, Hogwarts’ golden trio. With the reputation they earned during the war, she was confident Kingsley would automatically grant them the Auror position. And yet here they are. She smiled inwardly, knowing full well why. Potter and Weasley would take advantage of skipping the steps to become an Auror. But not her, not Hermione Granger. She would insist that they go through the same process as everyone.

A tap on her shoulder. “Headmistress.”

“Professor Flitwick.”

Hermione watched as the Charms Master leaned closer to Professor McGonagall, whispering. The headmistress’s face was placid, but she knew her well enough to tell that she was not pleased.

“You remember that news from the paper last week?” Harry said. She was surprised to find out that he was watching them too.

“The one about the large group of werewolves sighting in Great Britain?”

“Don’t you find it odd—suspicious even?”

Hermione, her spoon mid-air, looked at him.

“I tried to ask Kingsley about that before we left.”

“And?”

“He told me not to bother with it yet and that it was confidential case until they were sure of what it really is.” Harry looked sullen.

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me you did something completely opposite of what you were told.”

“I did not.”

“So you threw on your invisibility cloak to sneak in the Auror department’s office and went through the files of whoever’s in charge of the case.” Hermione said, speaking very fast.

“Kingsley said ‘yet’.”

“And in your head, it translated to go ahead and find it out yourself?”

Harry sneered as though he was not being reprimanded by her.

“Kingsley has no idea what he’s getting himself into, having someone like you marauding around the Ministry at night without being seen.”

“Someone like me?” He feigned being offended.

“Hey, give him a break.” Ron interjected, mouth filled to the brim. “He’s the boy who lived—twice.”

Hermione huffed and shook her head. “What did you find out?”

“Well, they mentioned Greyback in the report and a few names that have been suspected of being a werewolf before.”

Hermione was listening intently, though her eyes wandered off the opposite side of the hall. Just like in the train platform, his blond hair stood up among the rest. He sat despondently with his face in his hand. He looked well, a bit of weight loss and bags under his eyes, but other than that he looked like he recovered from his year of imprisonment in Azkaban.

The funny thing is, Hermione thought, she had seen this before. This image of him sitting right there. Not during their school years, but after that. He had been there on that same spot with his parents after Voldemort’s defeat. Looking uncertain of their place in the victory.

He suddenly raised his face and Hermione met his sharp cruel gaze. She turned away abruptly, clearly shaken. She picked up her spoon and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, aware of the keenest glance coming from the Slytherin’s table.

“Anyway, if the Ministry is taking extreme precautions to mitigate the news about it then it must be something serious.” Harry’s voice came back to her. She stared at him without really seeing. Her mind drawing back to Malfoy’s icy glare. She knew him to be hostile, but what did she do this time to deserve it?

It never occurred to her that Hogwarts’ empty halls would one day feel terrifying. As she walked in the shadows cast by the torchlights on the walls, she thought of the time she had walked here late at night after studying in the library. The ghosts of Hogwarts never frightened her, but it’s not what haunts the castle now—the agony of remembering who died where. If her memories would materialize, each corner has a ghost.

She had to compose herself when she arrived in the Gargoyle Corridor of the Headmistress’ Tower. Telling herself to relax before she muttered the password and stepped in the moving circular staircase.

There were murmurs coming from inside. Does the Headmistress presently have a guest? She eyed the lined of portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. On this side she was still concealed by large bookcases surrounding the room. She moved to the end of the line where Albus Dumbledore’s portrait hung.

“Professor Dumbledore.” She whispered.

A pair of twinkling eyes opened and stared back at her. The portrait winked and then disappeared. Hermione looked around as if expecting to find him in the frames nearby. But McGonagall’s voice came first.

She stepped inside the large circular room and immediately catches the sight of the other visitor, hovering near the headmistress’ desk. It’s Draco Malfoy yet again, looking graciously half-interested in that obnoxious way of his.

“Miss Granger.” Minerva motioned her to stand next to him. She wanted to burst into flames instead.

“Good evening, Professor. If it’s not a good time I can come back—”

“It’s alright. I’m sure Mr. Malfoy doesn’t mind.”

Hermione stole a glance at his direction and regretted it. For there it was again, his cold grey eyes. Why was he there?

“I’ve written a request to use the time-turner again this year.” She said.

“I presumed so, seeing all the classes that you’ve enrolled in.” Minerva pulled a drawer and from it, retrieved a golden necklace. “I did not think you are planning to return next year to finish it all.”

She was positive she heard him smirk. “No, I—wanted to go to the Ministry at the same time as Harry and Ron.”

“I was being playful, Hermione.” Minerva said, her expression shifting into a warm smile. She was feeling tensed but seeing Minerva like this reminded her of the motherly bond they had grown into after the holidays and endless dinners they spent together at Grimmauld Place with Harry and the Order of the Phoenix after the war.

Minerva walked over the table to hand her the time-turner. Her hand closing on the timepiece resembling an hourglass. “Thank you, Professor.”

Minerva looked at her and then at Draco, taking in the profound silence between the two. Hermione took it as an opportunity to bid good night and leave. The headmistress turned back to Draco thanking him for some information. Hermione did not hear the rest.

On her way out, Albus Dumbledore’s portrait winked at her again before closing his eyes and mimicking the sleeping pose of every other portrait beside him. Hermione was stepping onto the circular staircase, eager to go back in the Gryffindor’s house dormitory when a hand reached rapidly to stop the wall from closing behind her. Long white fingers.

She turned and met his steely gaze. It was as if he was doing it on purpose, scaring her. The stairs began to move downwards and there was a sudden chilling current that crept in the space between them. What does she say to him? Or should she say something at all?

The stairwell opened to the dark hallway but Draco remained still, waiting for her to walk out first, it seemed.

“Thank you.” She muttered.

He scowled.

Alright. She took out her wand and whispered Lumos. “I can’t see through clearly.”

“I can.” He said. “This is how it’s like in my cell in Azkaban.”

Hermione threw a glance at him and he was already staring at her point-blank. “I did hear about the conditions the prisoners had to sustain to survive.”

“That’s not even the worst part. Not feeling anything—Until we were released I was pretty convinced I was already dead.”

“But you’re not dead.”

“Disappointed, are we?”

“That’s not what I meant. I never admire how they run things in Azkaban.”

“Ofcourse, because it would go against your principle.” It wasn’t hate that prompted such a reaction but something else Hermione had trouble decoding. When he failed to elicit any response from her, added, “It was your mission wasn’t it? To save everyone.”

“My—what?”

He stepped in front of her brusquely, looking down so she will feel helpless under his gaze. “Better to stay away from me, Granger.”

With equal hostility, “You don’t need to tell me that.” Then just she stood there and watched him put distance between them. Letting him go so he would not see that she was trying very hard, but failing, to stifle the hurt showing on her face.


	3. The last member of Dumbledore's army

"Where is Hermione?" Harry scanned the room looking for his friend. Their first class of the year is double potions with Slytherin, Professor Slughorn will arrive in any minute and yet Hermione still hasn't shown up.

"She missed breakfast too and Ginny said she doesn't look well when she came back from the library last night." Ron said.

Professor Slughorn walked in class in a blue dress robe carrying a bunch of parchments on his arms with Hermione trailing behind. She spotted her friends and made her way to them.

"Where have you been?" Harry whispered as soon as she sat on her seat.

"I had a word with Professor McGonagall." She replied.

"Everything alright?"

"Of course." Hermione looked at him as she spoke, knitting her brows as though saying there is no reason for her not to be.

Everyone is paying attention to the lecture, Professor Slughorn was discussing how to make a certain potion. Hermione would occasionally raise her hand to answer a question while the rest of the class merely listens. Try as she might avoid looking at the other side of the room where the Slytherin is, she still ended up glancing at him. He is not even paying attention to the lecture, he has his head hung low and deep in thought. Hermione almost felt bad for him if she doesn't despise him so much because of what he did. Draco suddenly looked up meeting her eyes, she quickly turned her head back to professor Slughorn who was now saying something about pairing the Slytherin and Gryffindor for today's potion test.

"Write your names on a piece of parchment and drop it in this jar." Professor Slughorn instructed, motioning the class to hurry. Everyone rose to their seat and drop their names inside the jar. The paper vanishes into thin air as soon as they drop and would burst in different colors of smoke. Once they are done, Slughorn placed the jar in front of the class. "Let's see who you will be pairing with then, shall we?" He tapped it twice and muttered a spell. A piece of paper flew into his hands. "Potter and Zabini."

The two joined tables. A girl from Slytherin's table raised her hand. "Excuse me Professor, but what is the purpose of paring from different houses?"

Slughorn eyed her, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "Well my dear, the war taught us we are stronger when we are not divided. It's time we learn to work with one another and forget about individuality." He tapped the jar again and continued to call out the names that will be working together.

"Thomas and Murray."

"Longbottom and Cormac"

"Brendon and Weasley."

"Malfoy and Granger."

Their head shot up at the sound of their names being called. Hermione closed her eyes in despair, asking herself twice since last night why of all people it has to be Draco Malfoy. Unwillingly, they both walk to an empty table and stood in awkward silence.

"Well if this isn't nice." Draco muttered under his breath.

Hermione eyed him warily and push the potions book towards him, nudging his right hand.

Draco raised his eyebrows at the book. "What, Granger? Surely you can make this an exception and talk?"

"I'd rather die actually, but what can I do?" She whispered back.

The following moment, the entire class is busy flipping through the pages of their books and preparing the ingredients for the potion. The room is suddenly filled with smoke and various fragrances coming from each of the student's cauldron. Some pairs work well together and some simply clash.

"How many of the essence of hyacinth did you put in there?" Hermione looked exasperated as she examined the potion brewing in their cauldron. It turns the color of mud which is not the way it should be according to their book.

"Four drops." Malfoy replied as he put some herbs to grind in the pestle. "It says in the book. Can you calm down? You're getting in my nerves."

"How will know if you're doing it right? You weren't even listening to the lecture."

"Ah, so you're watching me then?" Malfoy feigned to shake his head. "Can't you be more obvious? We are in class, Granger." He pressed on enjoying the reaction he got from Hermione.

She glared at him unable to hide her consternation. "How can I not look, you were sitting there practically sucking the color and life out of the room."

"Please don't concern yourself with me."

"Get over yourself, Malfoy!"

"Is there a problem?" Professor Slughorn stopped at their table to check how they are doing. Hermione is on the processed of mixing the liquid in the cauldron while Draco prepares to add the freshly ground herbs to their potion.

"No Professor. Everything is grand." Hermione faked a smile.

"I supposed so." Slughorn squinted on the liquid brewing in their cauldron. "You have three minutes left to fix whatever thing you two are making here."

Hermione's eyes widened in panic as she re-read the instructions in the book looking for something they could have missed or overdo. Draco noticed the expression in her face, feeling unsure whether he should be worried or amused by how she is taking the situation as though her life depends on it, he chose the latter. She pushed the sleeves of her uniform up to her elbow muttering the steps they already did. Draco's eyes fell to the scar on her left arm, his smirk fading away from his face. Hermione saw him and trailed his eyes to the mudblood scar carved on her skin.

Feeling uncomfortable, Hermione deliberately let her sleeves fall back its length. "Your Aunt Bellatrix is quite an artist." She said without thinking. Draco feels pained and appalled at her remark but he did not let it show. He is not returning with his tails between his legs, he will save up the last dignity the war took from him. He is a Malfoy after all.

"Now if you're done reminiscing the past maybe you can actually help me correct this potion." Draco retorted, knitting his brows.

The content of their cauldron is now turning into a darker color and some of the class was distracted by the burning smell coming from it. Hermione and Draco continued to argue until the potion they are brewing exploded, sending globs of black fluid to spatter their surrounding area including them. Hermione looked as though she was about to cry while Draco stared in disbelief.

"Well, that was the first time someone else's work blasted instead of mine." Seamus Finnegan said, quite shocked. He continued stirring their cauldron while looking at the two.

Everyone watch them nervously, something in the air tells them there is another bomb about to implode.

Then it did. Hermione drew her wand first, then Draco followed suit. It all happened in such a quick motion but the only thing that registered in Harry and Ron's head is the picture currently in front of them. Hermione and Draco both have their wands pointing at each other's faces.

Luckily, Professor Slughorn was quick to his feet and broke the tension between the two.

"Mister Malfoy and Miss Granger!" He struggled on his way to stand between them. "Put your wands down at once or I'll put you in detention!"

They obeyed and lowered their wand to their side.

"I expect more from you two." Slughorn is now standing between the two, looking at them both incredulously. "The jar will only pair you with your own intellectual equal."

Ron side-glance at his partner with dismay, knowing Brendon was not the brightest of his class.

Slughorn continued. "Which means you two combined are competent enough not to mess this up." He flicked his wand and the muddle in front of them cleaned itself up. The broken glass returned to its form and the liquid vanished before their eyes.

Hermione looked as though she will vomit hearing Draco Malfoy could be her intellectual equal but she kept mum lest Professor Slughorn changes his mind and put her in detention with him.

"You shouldn't have put me with this mud—with her." Draco cursed himself internally. Old habits die hard, he thought to himself.

Hermione raise her eyebrow in confusion at the sudden swap of his word. Malfoy is not one to hold back insults. She wished he would just stop talking, she is still counting on Professor Slughorn giving them a light punishment after this, hopefully, something that will not involve them working together again.

"Times have change Mister Malfoy. Surely you know that? No one is fighting sides anymore, your houses merely distinct you based on your qualities. Right now, each of you stands with one another. You are all students of Hogwarts, after all. Aren't you?"

The tension in the room slowly dissipates at Professor Slughorn's words. Everyone looked at their partner with encouraging smile or nod as it dawned on them why they have to work together. Even Hermione felt contrite with her actions if only she was paired with some other Slytherin rather than Malfoy maybe this could have worked for her.

"You two will make this right. This will be your homework, I expect a vial full of Hyadris Cinicus by Monday." Slughorn instructed.

"Pardon Professor, do you mean two separate vials or—" Hermione inquired hoping that he meant two meaning they will work individually.

"Just one, you have to work together." Slughorn answered. He produced a piece of parchment at the sway of his wand. "Use this as your permission slip to work on your homework during after class hours here in our Potions room."

Hermione grabbed the paper from the air, much to her disappointment.

"I am expecting to have this room whole and functional after you used it." He gave the two a final look. "Am I making myself clear Malfoy and Granger?"

"Yes professor." Hermione answered while Draco merely scowled at Professor Slughorn's back who is now walking back in front of the room.

Harry is looking at Hermione from a distance with concern in his eyes. But she wouldn't meet his gaze. She had her head down with her frizzy hair unkempt, evidence of how distress she must be. Beside her, Draco's expression is not far from hers. He looks just as restless as she was, and he would constantly gaze at Hermione with contrition in his eyes. Harry watched him more intently, was Draco Malfoy really looking at her friend in a way he would never look at anyone at all? Harry knit his brows in confusion. Draco looked up and eyed him briefly before turning around and marching out of the room. Harry blinked multiple times and looked around to see Professor Slughorn packing his things in his table, which meant the class is over. Hurriedly, he walked towards Hermione and reach out a comforting her hand.

"I could have hexed him too, right there and then." Harry said, cheering her up. "Need a walk?"

Hermione forced a smile. "Oh Harry, I'd love to but—" She fish out the time turner from inside her shirt. Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend's modesty or lack of. "I have Muggle studies to catch up. See you later?"

Hermione squeezed his hand and was gone. Ron appeared beside him, looking a little annoyed.

"Did you know she still has that time-turner?" asked Harry turning to his redhead friend.

"Hermione? I'm not surprised. She could be planning another movement similar to SPEW at the moment or what. Our friend is mad, I'm telling you." Ron quipped. "This activity though, I think the jar is broken. Pairing me with Brendon? Certainly he is not my equal?

"Er-yeah, let's go. We don't want to be late for our next class." Said Harry, pulling Ron out of the room and into the hallways.

Draco was panting a little from walking briskly, he stormed out of the room as soon as Slughorn dismissed the class. He needed to get away from her as far away as he can. Hermione Granger will ruin all the effort he put to restrain himself from losing his temper. It's as if she is trying to open the gates to hell when she is talking to him. Draco couldn't let that happen, not a little crack or everything else will pour out. He was about to turn a corridor when he saw the unmistakable bushy brown hair of the very person he was just trying to avoid. She is walking out the door from a different room he left her in. Confused, Draco calculated the possibility of her getting to where she is in a short amount of time. He hadn't noticed himself stopping, only when Hermione rolled her eyes in front of him and bump his shoulders roughly as she walked past him. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind and thought about how he must be going crazy.

The rest of the day went well for Draco. He survived it mostly by trying to be invisible, but with difficulty because of his famous platinum blonde hair. As soon as people recognize him, they will break to murmurs. The turncoat, the Malfoy who doesn't have a side to fight for, the traitor. He pretended to not hear them, when he walked in the hallways, during classes, in the great hall. He thought of these as a consequence of his action, if it meant saving his life and his family, then so be it. His fellow Slytherin and Death Eater, Blaise Zabini feels he should be concerned for him which he voiced out at dinner that night. Blaise is sitting across Malfoy in the great hall, helping himself with the last piece of pumpkin pie.

"Have you ever thought of explaining yourself?" said Blaise.

As usual, Malfoy barely touched his food. He was nudging his untouched turkey with his fork. "Why bother? Besides, I don't feel the need to explain myself. With me, you get what you see, simple as that."

"Yeah but, don't you ever get tired of people saying stuff about you behind your back." Zabini pointed his spoon at him. "And the things they are saying are not nice, mind you."

"Oh to hell with them." Malfoy spat.

"Potter and his friends, they don't know the truth don't they?"

"Nothing will change so it's just pointless. Besides, I sort of thought they will figure it out already, I guess Hogwarts' golden trio isn't so golden after all."

"What do you mean nothing will change?! That brown-haired witch, one of Potter's friends, don't you think she might not want to hex you every chance she got when she knows what really happened?"

Unlike Malfoy, Zabini didn't pledge service to Dumbledore's Army before the war and he didn't turn his back to them when the war broke off as he did. That is why everyone hates Draco more than Zabini. But he knows very well why Draco did it, and none of what they were saying about him is close to the truth.

Puzzled by the sudden quietness of his friend, Zabini looked up at Draco to see him gazing out on the Gryffindor's table. He traced his eyes only to fall on a particular caramel brown curled hair that belongs to Hermione Granger. She was talking to Potter and Weasley animatedly, her hands gesturing something in the air. Zabini shook his head, smirking.

"Found something interesting all of sudden, Malfoy?" He teased.

Draco tore his gaze away from her to glare at him. "I'm going to bed, you are boring me with this nonsense. Get your head out of the clouds Zabini." He stood up and gave Blaise a final look. "Plug your nose with something, will you? Or I'll do the job for you and you won't like it one bit. It's like I'm sleeping next to the Hogwart's Express." With that, Draco turned to leave, his robes billowing behind him as he walked. Zabini snorted at his defensiveness and watch as he disappeared to the hallways.

Wide awake, Draco glance beside his bed where Zabini is dozing off. He groaned at the sound of his snore which is magnified by the silence of the night. But that is not the reason why Draco lay fully conscious with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. The same scene kept on repeating on his head, ever since he saw that scar again on her left arm this morning, making it hard for him to sleep.

She let out the most terrifying shriek he heard in his whole life. He was standing with his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, in their Manor as his Aunt Bellatrix pushed her down on the floor, her hysterical laugh competing with the loud cry. Fenrir Greyback woke them in the middle of the night, saying he captured Potter and his friends but he needed Draco to identify them because something is suspiciously different. He did not want to believe him, he wished he captured the wrong people. But it all went down when first he saw the familiar redhead of Ron Weasley, enough to confirm his fear. They were being held down by the other Death Eaters. She was looking at him directly, with pleading eyes. But he was quickly ushered towards who he supposed was Harry Potter. Understanding for the first time why they needed him to identify the lot. Potter's face is in a swell, the scar on his forehead gone, there are parts that turned extremely large, and he was almost unrecognizable. If only he did not spend his entire six years hating that face he wouldn't know it was him. Still, he denied it. He told them he is not quite sure, thinking they would let them go. Everything is still clear in Draco's mind, how they put Weasley and Potter inside the cell but kept her back, his Aunt Bellatrix holding her down and brandishing a knife in front of her eyes, and how she cried out in pain at every stroke of the blade on her skin. He clenched his teeth trying to drown out the sound of her screams and focused his eyes on the floor, not being able to look without feeling sick and yet his Aunt manage to continue torturing her as she laughed maniacally at her cries of despair. His father must have noticed his distress, it disgust him to know that his son, Draco Malfoy feels tormented and cannot bear to see all of it. He wanted him to be every bit as mad as them. He grabbed him by his neck and pushed him closer to the girl sprawled on the floor. The word "mudblood" carved deep on her skin. Her eyes blank, beaten, a tear escaping. Lucius was still holding him, forcing him to look, they all watch her stripped-down of dignity. Her eyes flickered at him briefly and his world collapse.

Draco sat up abruptly on his bed, his breathing ragged. He couldn't erase the scene in his mind especially the way she looked at him, he felt disgusted with himself for letting it happen. Beads of sweat formed in his forehead, Draco stood up and went to the bathroom. He splashed cold water in his face as if it would wash away the memory. A pale-faced man with unkempt blonde hair stared back at him in the mirror. He noticed how stubbles are starting to grow in his usually clean shaved chin and the unflattering dark circles under his eyes. You are a monster. He thought. She is right by you. Unable to contain his feelings, he gripped the edge of the sink for support as he shut his eyes until it hurts so the tears threatening to spill won't come out. Once the crack open, everything goes out.


	4. Unread letters

There is always nothing to do for the Fat Lady, she posed there tirelessly in a renaissance dress and a flowering shrub for a headpiece. Behind her, medium-sized trees with hippos and giraffes feeding on the grass, a rather odd background to be standing in while holding an empty wine glass. Sometimes she would jump on to other paintings for a change of surroundings when she is not needed at the Gryffindor house entrance that is, but most of the day she stand there poised even though she has nothing to do but stare at the flights of shifting stairs and occasionally ask for the dormitory password. She was about to leave the painting to take a nap under one of the trees when she heard voices coming up the stairs. In a few seconds, she was facing the three students to whom it belongs to.

"Mister Potter and his friends, how are you today." Said the fat lady in the painting, swaying her hips which they find a little odd and perplexing.

"We're fine. A little tired actually, but we can manage." Answered Ron.

The fat lady looked at him awkwardly, ignoring him completely and turns to Harry. "And you Mister Potter? You look dashing today!"

Hermione thought she heard her giggle, which made her snap her head back a little in confusion.

"It's quite alright, thank you." He answered, looking at Ron's gaping mouth. "Can we go in, now? Remembrall."

"Of course, see you again Mister Potter." Her voice lingered at the sound of Potter.

The three made their way in with Ron rolling his eyes at the fat lady's obvious attempt at flirting. Hermione thought she heard her giggle once again before the door closed behind them.

"Is there anyone here in Hogwarts who doesn't fancy you, Harry?" Ron said, flopping to the couch in front of the fire.

"If there's any consolation having a painting crushing on you is not very convenient at all." Harry replied thinking back the other day when he spent a solid fifteen minutes trying to get the Fat Lady opened the door as she continued to make small talks with him.

"Did I hear something about someone fancying my boyfriend?" Ginny appeared from behind and envelope Harry to an embrace.

Ron still cannot get used to the idea that his best friend is with his sister, he would always flinch whenever he saw the two of them being sweet to each other, and the sight would always amuse Hermione.

"Is that the Daily Prophet?" Hermione pointed at the folder paper under Ginny's arms. "Can I see?"

"Oh yes, Pigwidgeon brought it five minutes ago, I haven't seen it though." Ginny handed her the paper.

Curious to what has been going on outside Hogwarts, Hermione hurriedly spread the newspaper in front of her and absorbed herself to reading. There is a picture of Kingsley Shacklebolt in the first page, standing with two Aurors. Behind them is what looked like a house which seems normal at first but with the Ministry of Magic standing in front of it, the chances are very slim. She quickly turned the page to read the full story.

Pureblooded family found dead in their home. Hermione read the headline to herself, a sense of alarm going through her head.

"This is awful! Look!" Hermione held out the paper for them to see, their expression mirroring hers after making out the words with difficulty because of Hermione's trembling hands. She took back the paper and continued to read, aloud this time so the others would hear.

"The Ministry of Magic along with other Aurors is called to a wizarding village yesterday to investigate a crime which took place around midnight, September second. A pure-blooded family, who used to be followers of the Dark Lord were found lifeless. Scars were found in their left arm, where it is believed where the Dark mark used to be. The Ministry still has no lead about the suspects but is making everything they can to capture the ones guilty for this atrocity. The Auror department believed that whoever it is causing this violence could possibly be a Death Eater himself. But as for the motive for murdering the family, they have yet to find out." Hermione finished.

Everyone looked as worried as she is. They were speechless for a moment until Harry broke off the silence.

"It is a Death Eater, No doubt about it." Harry said with clenched teeth. It's true that he felt little remorse for the former Death Eaters who were killed, but the idea of someone or more than one person wandering about killing wizard families made him angry. This could be the Weasleys, he thought, a new set of rage spreading through his body.

"What could be the reason for killing?" Ron interjected, he looked just as terrified as Ginny, who were both probably thinking the same thought as Harry.

"I think I know why." Hermione eyed them apprehensively. "The Death Eaters doing this, they are getting back to those who turned their backs to Voldemort right after the war."

"But he is gone, Harry defeated him." Ginny said, her voice rising out of exasperation.

"Yes but, they may think it's not over yet. They may think they can continue his legacy themselves." A look of understanding spread across Hermione's face. "What if they are building a new army and those who refused to join back are being killed for disloyalty?"

"If that's the case, we have little to worry about." Ron contemplated. But he was wrong. Both Hermione and Harry know it. This just means that they are in more danger because sooner or later, these Death Eaters will come to them. After they eradicated the traitors, it will come for the innocent. If it is indeed continuing Voldemort's legacy like how Hermione predicted.

"I have to see the Minister of Magic." Harry decided, thinking he cannot let any more days pass by and just watch for the damages in the papers while doing nothing. He felt a sense of responsibility to stop it before another war breaks off.

"Harry I know this is important, and I'm every bit of scared as you are." Hermione moves closer to the edge of her seat with every word. She fears for the people exposed in peril outside, but more than that, she fears for Harry. He is the catalyst in all of this after all. "But don't you think we should let the Minister handle it for now, I'm sure he will go to you himself when everything is clear. Right now, all we have are presumptions."

"I agree with her. If Kingsley says it is under control then we should trust him." Ginny said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder to calm him down.

Harry knew he was overpowered by the two, they have a point and even if he argued with them the entire night he knew they will not give in. He sighed resignedly, he will have to listen to their advice for now.

Then to change the subject so as to push away the nagging feeling in his guts, Harry turned to Hermione and ask. "Don't you have potions homework to do with Malfoy?"

Hermione raised both her eyebrows, gesturing yes. "Do you really have to remind me of that?"

"What? A rare chance to bond with the Slytherin git, this is an experience of a lifetime." Said Ron with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Ginny laughed and let herself fall to the space between Harry and Ron. "Harry told me. What have you done to piss off Merlin for him to give you this kind of luck?" Hermione glared at her, with an expression that says "I thought we were friends" as to which she raised both her hands apologetically.

"If it will make you feel better, we can stand guard outside until you finish doing your homework." Ron offered.

"I can handle Malfoy." Hermione replied placidly.

"He changed quite a lot though, don't you think?" Harry said as he looked at all of them, expecting to agree. "It's like the war killed off most of his arrogance."

Hermione knows what he is saying. The conceited Malfoy who used to initiate fights all the time now usually cower down as though he doesn't want to be seen. But it doesn't mean he is completely over his arrogance, he is still every fragment of it, his haughtiness, slyness and evil remarks are still there. Only now, he shows it just when incited.

"There is actually this one brief moment, after the incident in potions class. The way he looked at you like he was sorry." Harry started explaining, he was going to continue but Hermione, looking resentful, cut him off.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry. Malfoy isn't capable of that kind of emotion."

"You believed in him once."

"A glaring mistake."

Ginny's eyes widened purposely at Harry as she jerked her head towards Hermione signaling him to notice the distress he is causing her. He has no intention to point a finger or blame her on what happened before, he is merely gripped with curiosity in Malfoy, with the sudden turn of events and the things that should happen but did not. In between the black and white he sensed something there that they fail to see and whatever that was, Harry felt it was not something he should overlook, he felt like it might change things.

How long had he been here? One or two hours perhaps or maybe more judging by the darkness that had enveloped his surroundings, there was still light when he went to the owlery. Draco went there to send a letter to his mother, having read the Daily Prophet this morning, snatching it from a first-year Slytherin who was too scared of him to protest during breakfast this morning. He read the news over and over again, his dread only growing each time. He hadn't expected them to come back. Of course, he knew who was behind the killings. They came to their manor house, convincing his father Lucius Malfoy to join them once again, that the war is not yet over. His father particularly thought they had lost their minds so he sent them out.

He gripped his robes tighter to his body, feeling the cold piercing through it. The dormitory and the warmth it presents suddenly feel inviting for the first time since he got here. How is he going to be able to sleep through the thought of his family lying lifeless inside their manor? He might as well wait here until his owl came back, hopefully with his mother's reply. He kicked the ground in fury at the possibility of the thought his mother not being able to write back. Helplessness is becoming more and more common to him ever since he pledged service to the Dark Lord. Being forced to one thing he is never ready for, that has always been Draco's life. If there was any courage in him, he doesn't know. It probably died down before he was able to discover it. There was never a chance for him to show it either. Voldemort doesn't need his followers to be brave, he needed them to be terrified, to be constantly in fear for their lives.

Finally deciding that if he stayed longer he would eventually die of the cold, Draco unwillingly made his way down the owlery back to the castles. His shadow being the only misplaced figure in the darkness.


	5. Unbreakable vow

Draco had completely forgotten about the potions homework he and Granger are meant to do if she hadn't reminded him. It was Friday, he just came out of his class when he saw Granger standing in front of the room with her back to a wall. She had obviously waited for him and she doesn't look too pleased about it, Draco noted at her awkward movements and nervous glances. Hermione is embarrassed to be the one going to him, but she values her grades more than her pride.

"Your girlfriend is here." Zabini jested accidentally too loud for Hermione to hear. He received two death glares from Draco and Hermione, it's as though they restraining every fiber in their body from cursing him. He made an excuse to leave.

"What are you doing here?" Draco attempted it as a question, but it came out more like a demand for her to go away.

"Our potions homework is due on Monday." Hermione said without looking at him.

"I know." He lied, he forgot there was even homework.

"Well?"

"What, Granger?'

"We have to make it together, I'm not going to make it alone only so you'll get the same grade, you have to help me."

God, she's exasperating and she talks too much. "When are you planning to do it?"

"I was thinking about this weekend."

"Alright, seven in the evening. I have Quidditch practice." He doesn't like the way it sounded as if they are meeting for a date. Draco gave her a final look before he turned to leave, eager to put as much space as he can between them to put out the oddness of the situation.

"I hope you fall off your broom." Hermione called out behind him, but he was too far to hear.

Hermione thought he was exceptionally irritable today like he was slowly going back to the old Malfoy. Not the Malfoy whom she almost befriended on their sixth year, the Malfoy who called her mudblood and paved her hell from first to fifth year. Looking back, she realized how he changed. Before sixth year, there would be no chance at all for them to talk except when he is insulting her. He would not, as Malfoy condescendingly put it, breathe the same air as her. But all that had changed before the war. In all his glory the egotistical Draco Malfoy sought their help. No one in the Dumbledore's Army wanted to believe him, but Hermione. She foolishly trusted him even though he was nothing but evil to her. The insults died down a little, and he was not as foul to her as before. Suddenly he was not so fussy about them breathing the same air. It is not much of an improvement to his personality but a change is a change no matter how small and Hermione patiently bear with that, only to be let down at the end. That is why after his betrayal, she came out hating him more than she ever did. Little did she know that hate is not the only thing she gained from what happened. The hatred is only immense because she started to care for him. Between the fights and insults thrown at each other, somewhere between the linings of their destructive connection, they learned to care.

Saturday came, the four of them had just finished dinner and are on their way back to the Gryffindor's common room. Ginny's arms wrapped with Harry's as they walked behind Ron and Hermione. Ron was telling her something that happened earlier in class and Hermione was laughing. When she is with Ron everything is effortless, she never had to force a smile because the sight of him is comforting enough. Hermione wavered off the thought before she starts feeling bad about their breakup, because them together is another side of the coin. What seemed perfect right now as friends may not be the same when they are more.

They stopped at the entrance with the painting of the Fat Lady, who was eyeing Ginny icily. "A blonde boy was looking for you." She told pointedly at Hermione. "An impatient one, that boy is. Threatened to ruin my painting if I don't tell him where you are. Like I have eyes everywhere in the castle."

"Sounds like Malfoy, I better get going." Hermione said.

"Sure you don't need us to go with you?" Harry offered.

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me." She waved a hand to them and went back down to the stairs.

Hermione hasn't seen him the entire day even during dinner in the great hall. She took her time walking, not thrilled at the prospect of what is waiting for her, half wishing that he will grow tired of waiting and leave. But when she reached their Potions classroom, Draco was already there sitting on one of the tables in his Quidditch uniform, having come straight from practice.

"Punctuality is not one of Gryffindor's best qualities huh, Granger." He drawled, letting his head fall back and sway to his side.

"I lost track of time." Hermione muttered, she went straight to the cupboard behind the room and started picking out the ingredients, wasting no time.

Draco rolled his eyes and jumped out of his seat to collect the utensils they will be using. He went to the back room where Hermione's little frame is crouched on the floor, fumbling in the drawers for herbs and other components to their potion. Once they collected everything they needed, they settled back to the table and laid the ingredients in front of them. Hermione double-checked the steps while Draco started to light the cauldron. They were standing side by side, too close for both their liking, Hermione noticed how slightly damp the clothes he was wearing and shivered imagining how cold it must be for him. Two layers of clothing and yet she can still feel the cold air of September seeping through the fabrics.

"I'm sorry, I-I need to do something with what you're wearing."

Draco raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

"Oh god, no. I just..." She raised and flicked her wand to him and his clothes suddenly dried up.

Draco felt better, a little warm actually. "What did you do that for?" He asked confused with her actions, yesterday she was throwing daggers at him. Now she is warming up his clothes.

"I cannot stand you jittering there while we work on our homework."

"Doesn't bother me." He was looking at her, searching her. "I thought you hate me."

"I do. But unlike you, I'm not heartless."

"And evil, cold, conceited, nothing I've never heard before." He gestured to the cauldron, which is now closed to boiling point. Hermione added the ingredients and started stirring. "And you are the Gryffindor princess with a heart of gold."

"I'm only trying to make this easier for both of us." Feeling irritated, Hermione turned her body facing Draco and placed a hand on her waist. "Look, you can insult me to your heart's content later and for the days to come. But right now, we have homework to finish. As soon as we get this done, as soon as we'll get rid of each other so it's either you cooperate or be stuck with me for the entire night." She was breathing heavily out of frustration after finishing the sentence, Malfoy merely glance at her and said, "Are you always this talkative, Granger?" before getting back to the potion.

It was midnight by the time they finished. The content of their cauldron is brewing a rich purple colored liquid that smells like a mixture of peppermint and roses. Draco stooped down to examine it.

"I think it might be done."

Hermione pushed him lightly to the side. "Let me see." She held out a leaf over the cauldron and watch it drop and hiss as it touch the surface. "Wonderful."

Draco watched her as she shifted her expression from frowning to half-smiling.

Pleased with herself, Hermione rubbed her hands together and eyed Draco. Her smile quickly fades as soon as she was reminded of who she was with. "We have to see if it will work though."

Draco held out his hand.

The potion is a cure for cuts or any wound inflicted by a normal blade, they need to test it on a wound for them to know if they did it correctly. Hermione looked at the hand extended to her with unease, knowing what he meant by the gesture.

"Let's just flip a coin to decide who to test with it." She said, feeling reluctant with his sudden gallantry.

"Don't be stupid Granger, just do it." He said in a tone that has no room for anymore argument.

Hermione took his hand with hesitation, which is cold and strange against hers, reached for the blade laying on the table with her other hand and placed it above his palm. She looked up to meet his eyes, only to regret it afterward. For it sent back memories of the last time she held his hand, in the room of requirement with Harry, doing the unbreakable vow. He was thinking it too, with the way his eyes flickered, a window back in time.

Will you Draco Malfoy, swear with your life to protect the secrets of Dumbledore's Army?

Yes, I will.

Hermione tightened her grip.

Do you renounce your loyalty to Voldemort?

I do.

She moves the blade closer to his skin and pressed it too firmly than she intended to.

Will you fight with Dumbledore's army if the war break off and protect each member as they would do to you?

I will.

In a swift motion, Hermione slash at the flesh of his palm. Draco winced on the unexpected intensity of the action as blood started to trickle down from the cut. She held her gaze to him throughout the process, her eyes burning with various emotions Draco could not wrap his mind into.

It lasted for a minute, her warm brown eyes on his cold grey ones. Draco was the one to break away, to stare down at his bleeding hand. "The potion. Granger." He said in a low voice.

Hermione drop her eyes and let out a small gasped, realizing she had lost control. She scooped the potion with a vial and tipped a few drops on Draco's hand. Miraculously, the wound begin to close. The skin repairs itself back until there is no mark at all of the cut that was there moments ago except for the blood.

"What is with you?" said Draco, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

"I-I got distracted."

"You got distracted." He repeated coolly.

Hermione ignored his remark, she held out a vial filled with the Potion in front of him. "I will be keeping this."

Draco was feeling tired, physically and mentally, he was waiting for his mother's letter the entire day but none came back. Hoping playing Quidditch would keep him preoccupied for a while, but even in the game, he was distracted by the thought. He let out a yawn, surprised to be feeling sleepy after days of having none.

"My goodness." Said Hermione, her eyes to the window. "It's past our curfew already. This is not good."

Despite the drowsiness that is slowly overtaking him, Draco felt slightly amused at her reaction. He cannot seem to think that someone who fought in the war, put down Death Eaters, run from them, killed a Horcrux and survived the battle is still afraid of breaking school rules.

"We better go then, before someone finds us." Draco swiped his wand over the table and it cleaned by itself, sending the cauldron and other tools floating back to the cupboard

Draco and Hermione stepped out in the hall, heading on opposite direction. Naturally, Draco would've gone without as much as saying goodbye but tonight, however, he paused before leaving.

"I will not walk you to your dorm, if that's what you're thinking." Said Draco, trying to cover the fact that she caught him looking back.

"Who gave you the idea that I want you to." She replied curtly.

He smirked and started walking and so did Hermione. But she did cautiously, staying in the shadows and fumbling her way by feeling the walls while Draco walked haughtily in the middle of the hall not minding if he will get caught.

That was probably the easiest night for Draco. He was asleep minutes after he went to bed. But before his eyelids flutter closed, the recollections of the night flashed back in his mind. He almost told her everything, what would she have done then? The probability lingers on his thoughts before finally, his world shut down sending him to a deep quiet slumber.

Just as Hermione went inside the Gryffindor common room, a figure sitting on one of the armchairs stood up. His head was messy and the eyeglass perched on the bridge of his nose is slightly askew.

"Thank god, I was about to follow you there any minute now!" said Harry.

"It's alright Harry. I'm fine. He was behaving, surprisingly." Said Hermione, dragging her feet towards Harry. "Well, thank you for waiting."

"It's Malfoy, it's just hard not to worry. Anyway, go on and get some rest."

"Good night, Harry."

"Night, Hermione."

Hermione dragged her tired feet up the staircase into the girl's room. She threw herself on her bed once she reached it and buried her face to her pillows. He was all she could think of, including so many questions that she would never voice out to him. There is a very small part of her that wants to stop hating him for once and just listen but she decided already that there is no point trying to mend things. It doesn't matter to her if he is a changed man, he tricked them once before and she can never forgive Draco for that. With a heavy feeling inside her chest, Hermione closed her eyes to sleep.


	6. Unlikely allies

Most of the seventh year students are busy reviewing for their upcoming N.E.W.T.S. especially Hermione. Ron and Harry would often see her carrying stacks of books under her arms that seem to be too heavy for her stature. She would constantly pop to their side having used the time turner to catch up in her classes and whenever they would ask her to go walk in the lake with them or play wizarding chest she would merely shake her head and tell them off. Today however Hermione agreed to visit Hogsmeade with them for drinks and light shopping.

They chatter and laugh along the way as they got closer to the bundle of short bungalows that is the village. Being the closest to Hogwarts it obtained the most number of casualties and damaged during the war but as Hermione and the others made their way around town, no trace of harm can be seen. The houses are all lighted, the streets full of students and wizards inhabiting the place, and all establishments are buzzing with shoppers.

"Right so, first things first. Candy." Ron said smiling at the sight of Honeydukes.

They all went and bought a handful of sweets except for Ron who filled every pocket of his clothes, two pockets of his trousers and four deep pockets of his coat, with everything he can reach. Hermione even caught him struggling among the crowd of first-years to get hold of Honeydukes' every flavor beans.

The rest of the trip went well, it lifted up Hermione's mood a great deal distracting her from fretting over exams and the bad news she constantly finds in the Daily Prophet. She knew her friends were right about her unhealthy study habit but it is the only way to keep her mind off things. They were down to their last stop of the trip before going back to the castle and yet none of them are feeling worn out from the exhausting day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione move closer and closer to the welcoming sight of The Three Broomsticks. They were already feeling hungry by the time Harry pushed open the door of the Inn. Hermione inhaled a lungful of air that smells like freshly baked bread and butterbeer as they made their way on an empty table by the stairs.

"I'd hate for this day to be over." Hermione said resting her back comfortably on the Inn's wooden chair.

"Really, as far as I can remember you were going to hex me when I closed your book when I'm persuading you to come." Ron pointed out.

"You don't just close the book I'm reading, it is rather rude, Ronald."

"If you didn't cast the Muffliato spell on me I wouldn't."

Harry was scanning the room full of students when he caught a whip of silver hair. "Hold on, is that Malfoy?" He thought aloud.

Hermione turned her head in the direction Harry is looking at and saw the unmistakable figure of Draco Malfoy. He was moving cautiously, stopping briefly on the counter of the inn to whisper something on the caretaker's ear which nodded at his request and gestured him to the door at the corner. He continued his pace and was looking around as though checking if he is being watched when he caught her staring. Draco's sharp eyes quickly averted hers as he disappeared at a wooden door behind the stairs.

"Does anyone of you also think Malfoy is behaving rather suspiciously these past few days?" Harry inquired.

"What do you mean?" Hermione was still staring at the door with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

"Neville caught him a couple of times walking to the owlery past the curfew." Harry leaned closer to the two. "He followed him and saw Malfoy just standing there for hours on end. Neville didn't rat him off, he thought he might be up to something, he wanted to catch him first hand."

"Goodness—d'you think he has a part on the killings?" Hermione said, pertaining to the news in the Daily Prophet.

"I don't mean to side with Malfoy but do you really think he can take part by just staying inside the owlery in the middle of the night?" Ron eyed both Harry and Hermione with consternation. "I seriously doubt so."

"He could be sending messages, plotting their attacks." Hermione countered, rolling her eyes at Ron who merely shrugged.

"No...it's—I have a feeling it's something else." Harry said, he was looking blankly at the surface of the table.

Hermione dipped her head to catch Harry's gaze. "How can you be sure? Malfoy is a Death Eater, have you forgotten?"

"Was." Harry met her eyes. "He was, Hermione." She was confused at his sudden empathy towards Malfoy, Harry could sense her anxiousness from across the table but even he knew that Hermione has doubts herself. "Narcissa Malfoy saved me—well somehow—back in the Dark forest when I came to face Voldemort. He sent her to check after hitting me with the killing curse and told him I was dead when in fact I am very much alive then. When the war was over Kingsley had a word with me concerning the Malfoys."

Ron was glancing at the two nervously, he knows the story already. It has not been exactly kept from Hermione, the topic was just discouraged around her because of how dejected she was after Malfoy deserted Dumbledore's Army during the war but today however they decided she has to know to the truth.

"The Ministry decided to grant them pardon..." Harry continued but Hermione suddenly cut him. 

"The Ministry set them free because of that single act that probably isn't solely for your best interest at all? Harry, the trouble they did weigh more than the right things they have done their entire life and you know it." She responded hotly.

"I was also opposed to the idea at first. But then Kingsley said the Malfoys didn't take part in the war. They abandoned Voldemort's army. They killed no one, the ministry had them on trial."

"They're cowards, of course they'll flee. Plus they have their fair share of killings even before the war broke off so they aren't exactly innocent are they?"

"Don't you ever wonder why Malfoy didn't die when he supposedly betrayed us which means breaking the vow he made with you?" Harry realized how he accidentally raised his voice in frustration when he saw Hermione's baffled wide eyes staring at him, her mouth slightly gaping. He breathed out some of his exasperation and continued in a much lower tone. "I know you have, 'Mione. You are the most brilliant witch I know and most compassionate among us three, otherwise, you will not give Malfoy a chance to prove himself back then."

Astounded, Hermione blinked a couple of times before regaining composure then he reached for her hand and stroked it affectionately. She glanced at Ron for support but his nod tells her he too agrees with Harry. If it hadn't been for Hermione, they would not survive escaping Death Eaters going after them one after another when they were on the run. It was chiefly her effort and wit that had enabled them to flee in very close circumstances of being caught. Hermione would not even leave Hogwarts and postpone her studies if it weren't for the two. She never considered herself to be fit for fighting nor in any bodily activities such as riding a broomstick or dueling. She has always believed that she only belongs around hardbound books and dusty rooms to think and memorize spells but their friendship pushed her to step out of the security of the library to the thrill and dangers of the outside world. For her bravery and big heart that has always come hand in hand with her head, Hermione Granger is the paradigm of a true Gryffindor. It's only regrettable that these qualities wavered, but who haven't received their fair share of damage. The hostilities of the war dented everyone and everything in the wizarding world leaving no one intact one way or another.

"Hold on, does this mean...you no longer detest him?" She has nothing else to say but state her observation, her mind made up a glass case of unspoiled memories and make-believes in her head that denies processing thoughts that hurt or saddens her and that includes anything related to Draco Malfoy.

"Hardly. I will always hate the ferret." Harry held her hand firmly. "But you and him is an entirely different story."

"You mean an entirely different level of hatred? Definitely."

The crowd inside the Three Broomsticks started to thin out as students retreat back to the castle.

"Hermione, trust me when I tell you there is no one who would rather say this less than I do but Harry is right. Come to think of it, he didn't die which means he didn't really break the vow." Ron interjected.

Hermione knitted her brows, it is not hard to piece this kind of puzzle together her mind is simply rejecting the answer. "How is that even possible? You saw him, we were both there when he switched sides in front of everyone."

"The unbreakable vow you made goes deeper than the action, it reads beyond intent. When he promised not to betray Dumbledore's Army he can't exactly prove it just by walking from one side to the other." Said Ron, he was looking flushed, out of defending someone whom he will gratifyingly kill a year ago. "And if the witnesses are right when they say the Malfoys didn't fight the battle and fled, much more it confirms the point."

"That doesn't change anything." Hermione was precariously treading a sensitive subject, her voice was small and measured. "He still doesn't deserve to live as much as—as much as Lupin, or Tonks, or..." She trailed off her eyes getting glassy. Fred's death had affected the Weasely's household a great deal. Although Molly, with all the strength left of her, tried to bind them together so the loss will become a little bit bearable it still didn't keep the family from being shattered. It took six full months before they were able to face each other without breaking.

"He simply left, like the selfish cad he ceaselessly is." Hermione continued, shaking her head dubiously. "And why now? Why tell me this, only now?"

"Our intention is a far cry from giving forgiveness or befriending the git, believe you me." said Ron placidly, choosing not to dwell on the subject of who died and who lived.

"We merely want you to stop blaming yourself for trusting him in the first place. Malfoy didn't betray us, technically not." Harry supplied.

"We don't know if you've noticed but, Malfoy has been the new he-who-must-not-be-named in our group because—because of your issues."

"Me and that swine have no issues! Heavens, are you two giving me an intervention?" Hermione glanced back and forth at Harry and Ron, a sense of understanding sweeping through her mind. "God blind me! Am I really that miserable?"

"Miserable was an understatement." Ron said.

Harry kicked him in the shins.

"What I meant—" Ron quickly added, glaring at his bespectacled friend. "Is that we only want the old Hermione back."

Draco stood silently in the middle of the room facing the decrepit fireplace of the inn. There were cobwebs that hung like gossamer in every niche he laid his eyes on and a thin sheet of dust on every furnishing. After waiting patiently for half an hour basking in the silence, the ember in the fireplace finally crackles. It sputtered as the blackened wood started to glow and the face of Narcissa Malfoy materialized in the blaze.

"Draco!" Her voice has a hint of urgency which troubled him deeply.

"Mother! Why didn't you reply to my letter? I am losing my screws worrying over you and father." He kneeled to the floor, ignoring the grime that will cling to his robes.

"What letter? I never receive any letter except for the Patronus you sent last night."

Draco froze, his dread swelling at her words. "Could it possibly be intercepted?"

"Is something going on Draco? Are you safe?"

"I think I should be the one asking you that question."

"Draco listen—your—father—has—been—"

There is not enough wind inside the room yet oddly the fire grew wild. Narcissa's face fade and her voice grew fainter.

"No! Father has been what? Stay with me—Tell me bloody—No!" Draco shouted at the fire numerous times until there was nothing left in the fireplace but heaps of glowing coal. Panic-stricken, the lanky figure rose to his feet and started pacing the room. First, the letter didn't arrive to his mother and now their communication was intercepted. He ran a hand over his forehead to grip a fistful of hair and halted to stop himself from shaking and to mull over his evident discovery. Draco looked across the room as if he would find the answers etched on the wall, his grey eyes dangerously dark and tinted with malice.


	7. A desperate plan

It's not that difficult to sneak away from the Prefects, Draco realized this as he turned a corner outside their house dormitory. They don't live up to the challenge he was expecting, one of them is stunned lying on the Slytherin's common room floor and the other two are levitating just outside the door unable to move because of the binding spell he threw at them. His feet made quick light steps as he crossed the halls, leaping occasionally in the shadow to avoid getting caught when a professor or a prefect would suddenly appear from a corner. From a distance he could see the cabinet containing Slytherin's Quidditch materials, he needed to get there to get his broomstick so he could carry out his plan. Draco was about to dash for the cabinet when the Headboy and Headgirl burst out from a nearby door.

Damn it Damn it Damn it. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself out of view, leaning behind a pillar.

"That was the second student we caught snogging."

"Are you trying to imply something?"

"Getting the vibes here are we?"

"Oh you are pathetic and disgusting!"

Rolling his eyes, Draco watched them until they disappear at the end of the hall. He stepped out of the shadow once he couldn't hear the voice anymore and hastily opened the cabinet, retrieving his broomstick from the pile. A rush of adrenaline flows in his body but the panic and trepidation he felt yesterday after talking to his mother did not subside. He tried to contact her again by sending another Patronus to let her know he will find a way to get to her. His parent's lives are at stake and he couldn't let anymore moment be wasted being paralyzed by fear. He set his eyes on the exit a few feet ahead of him. With determination and vigilance, Draco sped his way out of the castle broomstick at hand.

"Move closer ter the fire 'Ermione or you'll catch a cold."

Hermione smiled at the mammoth-sized man gratefully and hugged the blanket he gave her tighter as she inched to the fireplace, trying to ignore the fact that the cloth smells like dried meat and unwashed hair. With her chattering teeth and shivering body, she is in no position to be picky.

"If yeh lot keep this habit of sneaking out of the castle at midnight I will gonna have to report yeh ter McGonagall." Hagrid tried his best to give them a cautioning look but the three knew better than to be frightened.

"Come on Hagrid, we just wanted to see you! Are you really going to tell us off?" Ron said. He was sitting in the dining area with Harry, between them was a plate of untouched rock cakes that had turned cold. Hagrid turned to look at them both, his weight shifting from one foot to another indicating his uncertainty. His size was occupying most of the space in the room, with his round belly that was held together poorly by a brown leather belt and his head which is almost touching the roof would constantly knock the ham or the cheese hanging from the ceiling.

"Oh bugger! This is the last time, no wandering at night an'more after this. Promise me."

"We promise. It's just that we are all having trouble sleeping." Hermione said, looking back from her chair with her eyes squinted into a grin.

Night after night, their biggest struggle is how to summon sleep. It's as if their body is missing the adrenaline of being on the run when they were hiding during the war and when they would finally doze off, it would either be shallow or filled with nightmares.

"Plus it's not every day you see Hermione willing to break school rules, so pretty much yeah you should let us off the hook." Harry added.

Hagrid shrugged his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Alright alright, no need fer yer petty excuses."

They spent the rest of their stay catching up with their friend, nothing much has changed since. Hagrid has always been interested in odd and vicious creatures that is why it did not surprise them when he proudly presented a bucket full of what looked like clams at first, but after Ron unwittingly dipped his finger towards the surface when the shell opened revealing sets of needle-like teeth and started gnashing at his retreating hand, turned out to be some kind of a piranha-mollusks hybrid.

"Hagrid, what exactly are those?" Hermione asked backing away from the container.

If they hadn't known him for a long time, his reply would've completely come off as nuts. "Those are Carwhalls marvelous aren't they?!" Hagrid said smiling from ear to ear as though it is the most natural pet to have.

Going to Hagrid's hut wasn't exactly planned, they were inside the common room enjoying the last hours of the weekend when Harry suggested the idea. With nothing else to do except play another match of wizarding chess or in the case of Hermione, read, they all agreed to visit him. Hermione didn't even put up a fight because she was tired and just wanted to be submissive for once. It would be a complete lie if she says she hadn't thought of Draco after their talk in the Three Broomsticks. Her mind was restless ever since and she would say yes to anything that would distract her of him.

After an hour of chatting, multiple times of being offered cakes and them saying no, the three finally decided to go back to the castle. It was well past midnight when they began their trek up to the gates quietly with Hermione trailing behind the two. Thanks to the full moon the three had no trouble finding their path, they would've stopped to marvel at the view if it hadn't reminded them so much of Lupin, there are so many things that they don't enjoy anymore, spoilt by the war. All the same, it didn't prevent Harry from stopping to look up.

"Bloody hell, I'm freezing! Let's cross the damn ground!" Ron said, almost colliding with Harry. He went around to walk past him when he was brought to a halt. "Malfoy?"

Hermione at this point was certain she was imagining hearing the name. She was convinced that her overthinking has finally led her to hallucinate things but when she looked up and found a disheveled Draco Malfoy standing a couple of feet away from them holding his broomstick, her mouth fell open in disbelief.

He looked precisely as astonished as they were upon seeing them although there is wildness in his eyes that they could not place.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry's voice was stiff and accusing.

"I should ask you the same, Potter!" Draco kept his cool. Just when he is seconds from getting away, he had to be stopped by none other the three least people he wanted to see.

"Uh, I think he is just about to fly out of the castle, Harry." Ron deadpanned, noticing the broomstick in his hand.

Draco ignored the statement, he turned around and continued his pace in a much faster speed. Every second he spent here in Hogwarts could equivalent to his parent's chances of living.

"Whatever it is you're planning I suggest you stop right now!" Harry shouted, but Malfoy was moving farther at such a quick pace that he had to jog to catch up.

"Stop putting your nose in other people's business, Potter!" Draco shouted back.

"It is my business if you are to put everyone in danger!"

"Well aren't you bloody heroic."

"Malfoy! Stop you—"

"STUPEFY!"

Ron and Harry froze on their feet, astounded. Draco had just gone past the whomping willow when he collapsed on the ground, they stared at the motionless body up to the wand still pointed at it and finally to Hermione.

"What?! Don't give me that look. It's the quickest way to shut him up and you both know it." She said defensively.

From lying lazily on the common room couch to visiting their old friend, somehow the three ended carrying a stupefied Slytherin back to the castle. Harry had him by the shoulders while Ron grabbed his legs, the two groaned at the weight they were carrying while a flustered Hermione walked behind.

"He will kill me for this." She said keeping her eyes at his almost lifeless body.

"Well, at least he is not killing you know! Oh—Harry on three! One, two—" Ron mumbled as they hauled Draco's falling body back up to their arms.

"Damn it Hermione, why d'you have to hex him?" Harry said between gritted teeth.

"There it goes, my year of normalcy in ashes." She muttered to herself ignoring the two's complaints.

The plan was to carry him to Professor McGonagall's office and explained what had happened. They find themselves hoping to have a professor or any prefect caught them right now, just so they'll have extra hands to lift Draco's weight. Unfortunately, the corridors are clear but for the occasional ghost roaming the castle.

Once they reach the Gargoyle corridor at the Headmaster's tower, Harry and Ron set Draco down on a sitting position with his back to the wall.

"Please tell me one of you knows the password to McGonagall's office." Harry said, short of breath.

"I do! It's Chartreux." Hermione squealed, and then added, "It's a breed of cat" to a slightly confused Ron.

The entrance to the Headmistress's office was concealed by a gargoyle which at the mention of the password moved aside in response. Harry, Ron, and Hermione eyed the empty space that would lift them up to the Headmistress's actual office. With difficulty and determination, Ron and Harry were able to fit into the small space while carrying Draco's body leaving enough room for Hermione to squeeze herself in. The lift shot upwards giving the three a slight jolt, all the while, Draco remained still and unconscious to what is happening around him. Hermione was the first to step out of the elevator and into a large circular room. If she hadn't been in a hurry she would've stopped to look around and examine the curious silver instruments and other widgets lying on top off spindle-legged tables but given the circumstances, she swiftly crossed the room to another doorway that is McGonagall's office.

They hadn't really come up of a way to explain the situation, Hermione pondered on this as she moves closer to the door. We were wandering around the castle past the curfew Professor and we thought we'd inform you, and oh, by the way, we have a stupefied Draco Malfoy with us all along.

Realizing there is no better light to see their current state, Hermione swallowed hard nervously as she stepped into view, her dread multiplying ten folds.

McGonagall was there, to her temporary bliss which turned quickly into trepidation at the sight of her furrowed brows and to the man in purple robes sitting in front of her desk. Hermione thought the Minister of Magic's eyes could not possibly grow wider than it already is upon seeing her until Harry and Ron appeared holding the stock-still Malfoy by the arms and feet.

"Dear Merlin, Is that—" professor Mcgonagall started. She was quickly on her feet crouching beside Draco whom Harry and Ron set on the ground as they catch their breath. "What have you done? Oh dear." Looking up at the three conscious students, her stress visibly magnified.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Harry forgot their crisis for a moment as he stared at the Minister with bafflement.

"Mister Potter, I suppose you have a good explanation?" He replied, looking from Harry to the figure slumped on the floor. Professor McGonagall was muttering an incantation to bring him back to consciousness by then.

Suddenly set off from his reverie, Harry muttered an "oh" and started his best to enlighten the two puzzled adults. "We saw him walking out of the castle with his broom Professor. I think he was trying to escape, so we tried to stop him but he won't listen."

"So you hexed him?" McGonagall said, horrified.

"We chased after him, but then—" Harry turned to glare at Hermione, who seemed to be exerting all her willpower to turn invisible. "Someone felt the need to Stupefy him."

"And what were you three doing out and about past the curfew might I ask?"

The three-eyed each other anxiously, Ron was about to blurt out a response when Hermione, quick to her wit not to involve the name of Hagrid, answered. "We couldn't sleep Professor, so we thought we'd walk by the lake and watch—the moon."

"The moon." McGonagall repeated doubtfully.

Draco stirred on the floor, he mumbled incoherently and shifted from one side to another until finally, his eyes opened to the blurry vision of an old witch watching him anxiously. As the memory of seeing Harry, Ron, and Hermione outside the castle and the feeling of suddenly being electrocuted when he was shot by a spell at the back dawn on him, his eyes widened in panic. He sat abruptly, scanning the room at a very rapid rate while the sight of Professor McGonagall and the Minister of Magic help little to calm his nerves. He raised a hand to massage his temple when his eyes fell to Hermione Granger, the last voice he heard before passing out.

"You bloody—" He was obviously having difficulty speaking but his anger was so deep that it was all the motivation he needed. "—little twat."

"Mister Malfoy! I will not tolerate that kind of language."

The fact that McGonagall regarded his proper use of language rather than the verity that he was sprawled on the floor completely unaware of how he got to that point aggravated him more.

"Would you mind explaining what you were doing outside the castle with your broomstick, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall ordered authoritatively. "And don't give me nonsense such as watching the moon or whatsoever."

Hermione went red.

Draco wanted to say, yes I do mind very much, but knew better than to answer the headmistress in such a way. He closed his eyes still feeling a little dizzy. "I need to leave as soon as possible so if you will permit Professor, Please."

Not only were they bewildered to hear him say Please but also at his vague confession.

"I don't understand, why must you leave?"

"Haven't you read the news?" His voice was firm and desperate. "My parents are in danger!"

McGonagall stared at him for a moment and then she stands to her height. "Kingsley...I believe this won't be a private meeting after all."

The Minister, donned in an intricate purple robe, stepped closer. He sighed deeply and set his eyes to each of the students inside the room, shaking his head after doing so. "I guess you should all know the reason as to why I'm here."

"I don't have time for this." Draco spat, picking himself up from the floor and dusting off the dirt from his robes.

"Then you will have to make time, because this concerns your parents too, Mister Malfoy."

The room fell silent, Harry's heart swelled with anticipation. He was on edge since the news of killings broke off but everyone around him was adamant in keeping him from getting involved. Tonight however, he will get the answer that he wanted for so long.

When Kingsley gave the details that were left out by the Daily Prophet, Hermione was expecting to hear the Malfoys' name among the suspects. She convinced herself that the reason Draco was trying to leave is associated with his Death Eater activities. It was easier to see him that way, the evil, conceited, enemy that she always knew. But twice that night she was proven wrong. Hermione lifted her gaze, only to find Draco's cold sharp eyes staring back. Everyone was waiting for him to talk but he was hesitant, maybe because there is no one in the room he felt he could trust enough to share what he knew. The information he bore could either be used to his advantage or against him.

After carefully weighing his options, which are scarce, Draco finally conceded. Six months ago, Fenrir Greyback visited their manor, he was homeless after the war and he looked worst, convincing his father to join him build up another army to avenge the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy, being the arrogant and clever man that he knew how hopeless his plans are so after insulting him and taunting his vision he sent him out. They did not hear from him again after that, all they knew was that they weren't the only former Death Eater who turned him down. A couple of months later the first pureblood family to die was stretched as the Daily Prophet's headline.

"Fenrir Greyback." Kingsley carefully pronounced the name. "The last sighting we have of him is in Wiltshire."

Draco's eyes widen in fear, Wiltshire is the home of wealthy pureblood families including his and Zabini's. "Don't you see?! He's after us! Since the death of the first Pureblood family, I knew then that it is only a matter of time before he comes back for us." The entire room was silent except for his deadbeat breathing. "I tried owling a letter to my mother but she never received those. I sent her a Patronus and even resorted to fire-call...I was able to talk to her but it was cut short, I think it was intercepted. I cannot simply rely on the protection of the wards in our home anymore, I need to be there." His voice was becoming more and more desperate at each syllable. "It's not much of a plan, but I just need to be there."

"I understand where you're coming from Mister Malfoy, but I can't let you go just like that." McGonagall was the first to spoke. Her hands were clasped together and she was watching Draco intently behind a pair of thick spectacles.

"Was that an unacceptable reason? Should I brand myself in the forehead as well before I can do whatever the hell I want?" he exclaimed.

Ron looked as though he will strangle him while Hermione wrapped her hand around Harry's clenched fist.

"Malfoy, you foul, evil—" Hermione scowled, throwing a quick side-glance at Professor McGonagall and choosing her words carefully. "Harry would never take advantage of his name! Only you would think of doing something like that."

"You dare talk to me after what you did." Draco sneered.

Hermione cocked her head at the tone of his voice ready to shot back an insult when McGonagall interrupted.

"Enough! You're all in the seventh year now and still, you act like you were in first year. You should be ashamed of your behavior." She gave them all a fair disapproving look. "And you mister Malfoy, you should know better than offend the people who are most likely to help you."

Both sides eyed her as though the Headmistress had gone mad.

Draco opened his mouth to protest but he was cut short by the Minister. "She's right, Draco. We cannot let you go after your parents. It's too dangerous, and we are trying to lessen the casualties as it is."

"Casualties is what they will be eventually if you keep on holding me off."

"Your parents are the Ministry's responsibility." Kingsley said, his expression was hard and unyielding. "If your presumption is indeed correct, then we can send Aurors to guard your home and ambush Fenrir Greyback. It's hitting two birds in one stone. So what do you think Mister Malfoy?"

"How can I be assured that what you're saying is true?"

"Would the Minister of Magic lie to you?"

Draco contemplated his words in his head for a moment and then sighed in defeat. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Bloody hell you don't." Whispered Ron, whom Mcgonagall watchfully heard earning him a sharp reprimanding look.

"Excellent. The night is getting deep Minerva, I take it you want to talk privately to these four." Kingsley turned to the Headmistress, motioning his head to the four students standing in front of them. "I shall be off then."

"Hold on!" Harry exclaimed. "Mr. Shacklebolt, if you'll allow me I want to help find the remaining Death Eaters."

Kingsley started on his feet, he patted Harry's shoulder as he went past him saying, "No Harry, I need you to stay here. We'll see each other on the holidays all right?" then he turned on his heels and walked out of the room, leaving them four under McGonagall's piercing stare.

"Er—I guess we should be going too—" Ron started.

"Not so fast Mister Weasley, stay where you are."

Harry and Ron both Groaned, beside them Hermione and Draco look as though they are trying to incinerate one another by having a staring contest.

"SEVEN YEARS!" McGonagall's voice suddenly rose to a shrill once the Minister is out of earshot. "In your seven years of stay here in Hogwarts, all of you never missed a year causing disturbance!"

All of them looked down on their feet, suddenly finding the ground interesting except for Draco who was wearing the same disdain and annoyed look he has since waking up in the Headmistress' office.

"One hundred fifty points from Gryffindor and fifty points from Slytherin."

Hermione stared at her with mouth gaping.

"It saddens me too Miss Granger, but it is a well-deserved penalty considering your behavior tonight." McGonagall replied placidly, and then after a moment of thought, added. "Although, I must say not quite enough."

McGonagall has specks of gray hairs, the toll of war, making her aged twice as much. But despite the creases and obvious signs of maturity, her eyes never lost its daring gleam and intelligence. Enough to make Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco feel unease at being studied by her.

"Tomorrow you shall meet me in the Transfiguration classroom after dinner for your detention." McGonagall said, putting her hands together in her chest as she nodded at the four students signaling for their dismissal. "Return to your chambers once you walk out that door, understood?"

"Yes Professor." Harry, Ron, and Hermione replied.

Draco scowled.

Two detentions in two consecutive months are utterly impossible for Hermione Granger, and yet as she made her way out of the Headmistress' office to the hall it was perfectly clear that somehow she had managed to earn something she had painstakingly tried to avoid. She was in a daze walking rapidly five feet ahead, Harry and Ron knew better than to confront her, they know their friend is inside her own delicate bubble threatening to implode. But Draco Malfoy didn't know that.

"Trying to kill me, Granger?" Draco spat. He was watching her from the moment they stepped out of McGonagall's office, expecting her to lash out on him but she hasn't exactly uttered a word as she had suddenly lost the ability to speak.

Draco saw her hands balled into a fist but that didn't stop him from pushing her to the edge, she hexed him after all, she will need to pay for it. "What now?! You'll curse me and then you'll ignore me?!" He bellowed.

Harry closed his eyes dramatically and directed it at the ceiling, preparing himself for Malfoy's apparent death at the hands of his brown-haired friend.

Hermione stopped in her tracks, Harry and Ron put brakes on their feet to avoid colliding with the fuming witch. They stepped aside upon seeing her flaming nostrils to make way as she stomped angrily towards Malfoy.

"That was only a stupefy spell, Malfoy. You will not die on it." Hermione said between gritted teeth. "But if you want a more deadly curse I have another one I'm itching to throw at you. Just. Say. The. Word."

Ignoring the fervent shaking of Harry and Ron's head, Draco glowered down on her modest figure as an attempt to belittle Hermione. "You've no idea what the cause of your little game at playing heroic will be on me and my family." He paused to watch her solid expression falter slightly. "If anything happens to my mother I swear on my grave I will make you three pay ten folds."

"You're not exactly a saving grace even to your family, Malfoy."

"Well, you should know! And you too Potter! You would do the same wouldn't you?!" Draco's scream drowned the hallways, it would not surprise them if McGonagall suddenly came down from her office upon hearing his voice. "Wouldn't you, Granger? Defy the order of things for the ones you care for?"

Hermione cringe, not because she was terrified but because of his hopelessness she can very much relate to. For days she battled herself on the tiny chance that Malfoy has something good in him after discovering he didn't really betray Dumbledore's Army. For days she refused to believe that she was wrong for once and he has a point to prove. As she stared back at his steel eyes it begins to dawn on her how wrong she could be. She did not only trust Malfoy when they did the Unbreakable Vow. He trusted her too. And if she felt betrayed at being abandoned, how could he have felt when no one dared to look at his real intentions rather than his mere action?

Hermione groped for her line, flicking her eyes from Draco to Harry and back. After a few seconds of utter silence from Hermione's part, Draco swerved left and walked out in long strides.

Completely unaware that she had been holding her breath the entire time, Hermione let out a deep sigh and watch Draco's fleeting figure until he blended in the shadow of the castle walls and out of sight.


	8. Gray areas

The tabby cat let out a huge yawn for the twelfth time, eyes set on the empty chairs of the classroom. It lifted its paw to rub a patch of fur near its left eye, a habit mastered out of boredom. The first student to come arrived just when she raised her yellow eyes to the grandfather clock situated at the back of the room. His movements are minimal and cautious, he scanned the room for a brief moment with his icy grey eyes hooded under his blonde fringe that was usually swept back in a sleek, then after seeing the ashen lump of fur on the table, sat on a chair with a grunt. The classroom is big, surrounded with tall windows and has four rows of three desks leaving enough room for other apparatuses such as cages and shelves plus the table where the rigid cat is perched. They both waited, one patiently and the other with obvious dislike.

At nine o'clock they heard the clearly identifiable murmurs of the other three students they were waiting for in the hallway getting louder as they move closer to the room. The cat snapped its head at the direction of the entrance when they came in and leaped in the air, but before it landed on the floor it shifted its shape into the form of Professor McGonagall with her spectacles perched perfectly on her nose and grey hair unruffled. "You're late" was her immediate greeting to them.

"We're sorry Professor." Hermione responded timidly, her face flushed from running. Beside her stood Harry with his untidy jet-black hair and Ron who was clutching his chest to catch his breath.

"Take your seat." Professor McGonagall ordered, motioning them to a vacant chair beside Malfoy.

Draco regarded them with a sharp look.

Trying to ignore a pair of cold grey eyes boring into her, Hermione settled uncomfortably beside him along with Harry and Ron.

"So for your detention task, you will be polishing these candelabras until they are bright and clean." McGonagall summoned four boxes containing heavily ornate candle holders and placed them in front of the students along with four clean rags.

"Can't we do something more exciting than cleaning?" Ron appealed.

McGonagall stared at him briefly as Hermione berated Ron mentally for even speaking and then after a moment of thought said, "As you wish Mister Weasley. You shall do it without magic." She watched as their mouths fell open in incredulity and held out her hand towards the four, waiting as they unwillingly dump their wands at her open palm.

"You can't be serious." Said Ron, his eyes shifting back and forth the Headmistress's stern features and to her extended hand.

"I very much am, as a matter of fact, to add to the excitement I expect you to finish everything in under an hour." She clipped. "So I'll leave you to it." Giving them a final look, McGonagall turned on her heels and went out of the room.

"Thanks, Ron, really." Harry muttered sarcastically, eyeing the heap of dusty devices in front of him.

For a very long time, Draco made no movement, he simply frowned at his own pile of candle holders as the other three begrudgingly started on their task. He found his interest at making Hermione feel unease as she was just sitting beside him fervently scrubbing at the soot covering the brass candelabras.

"Mione, you um—you have dirt on your nose." Ron said touching his own nose to point the location, rag at hand.

Hermione knitted her brows and lifted her hand to touch the spot only to miss it by one inch.

Harry chuckled. "Not there, right here."

Terrific. Draco thought as he grudgingly listened to the three's irksome giggles and ramblings. But after he grew tired of glowering at the witch and used all his strength of mind not to look, still there was something pulling at his eyes to linger. Without knowing at what point his angered glances had turned to curiosity, he realized how never gave much attention to her physical appearance in seven years that he knew her as he became conscious for the first time of how much Granger had changed. Her bushy hair, which is a lot, would usually cover most of her face and if there is any part left for people to see it would be hidden behind mountains of hardbound books. Now it is tamed in a plait at the back of her neck giving less impression of wild twigs springing out from trees. It's as though for the first time she wanted people to see her potential beauty. Draco scrunched his face at the thoughts running in his head and had to remind himself that he was mad at her.

Snatching his gaze from Hermione when she noticed him staring and in turn gave him an inquiring look, Draco reached for the rag to begin clearing up his pile of candle holders. He pondered at what happened last night, having shouted her and expecting her to retaliate in return but instead she stood there, clearly taken aback, with pity in her eyes. He would've done anything just to get a reaction, anything but her sympathy. The moment he saw her eyes turned glassy at his words, he fled as though her compassion would sear his flesh, avoiding it like a plague. The truth is Draco was more okay with her hating him, he found it convenient rather than the familiarity they had developed in their sixth year when he joined Dumbledore's Army. No one in the group was willing to train him but Hermione, considering Harry had too much in his hands already to help while Ron was clearly blinded by his newfound fame at being a Quidditch goalkeeper. They wouldn't call it closeness, it was more of being huddled together with not much choice because of the circumstances. And even though people claim him to be pure evil, Draco did feel grateful for her big heart and understanding. A feeling that never settled well with Draco, he found her hatred towards him more normal and acceptable than her ease. But as Draco scrubbed angrily at the candelabras while the three make casual conversations as though he is not in the room, he wondered why he longed to tell her the truth.

"That's it! I'm done!" said Ron. The sound of his last brass holder hitting the floor seized Draco back from his musings.

Ron stretched his arms and feet. His clothes were covered in filth, he brushed them lightly as he stood up and sauntered idly to the shelves, examining the contents of jars and odd apparatuses in the room.

"Blimey, I wonder what these are for?" Ron wondered aloud. He was peering at an oversized jar containing little winged creatures that resemble a bat but is larger in size and different in color.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you, mate." Harry warned at his outstretched arm.

"Right, sorry." Ron stepped back and retreated to McGonagall's desk. He walked around behind the table, set his feet firmly on the ground, and brought his hands together in his chest. "Seven yeeaaaaars Mister Potter! Seven yeeaaaars!" Ron imitated, his chin pointing up and his voice rose to a shrill.

Harry chortled in his seat while Hermione suppressed her laugh.

"Will you shut it Weasley?!"

All eyes turned to Draco, three pairs with a look of annoyance to be exact.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ron shot back.

"Ron, please. Don't start it!" Hermione snarled. No one challenged her, she doesn't have her wand but they are perfectly aware of her two functioning hands and the heavy metal holders within her reach. She turned to face Malfoy and eyed his full box of candelabras. "And you! Are you planning on sleeping here tonight?"

Draco glared at her, masking the surprised that she is over her silent treatment. "Unlike Weasley I wasn't accustomed to cleaning filth. I believe it's his expertise."

"That's it! I cannot simply deal with this anymore!" She fumed, letting the rag and the metal roll with a noisy clank from her hands to the floor.

The three wizards stared at her, clearly puzzled. When a few seconds have passed without anyone saying anything, Hermione continued. "I went back this year hoping that finally, I'll be able to study without having to worry about Harry's imminent death! I thought I could do all my reading in the library without thinking if Harry and Ron might fail every subject because of the problems outside we needed to deal with. I was imagining it to be a pretty good time to finally catch up on my education." She breathed heavily, eyes darting between the three. "But this stupid childhood rivalry just had to ruin everything, doesn't it? Why does it have to?"

"Because you three should know better than to meddle with things." Draco retorted. "You should have let me go, but you had to satisfy Potter's obsession with being a nuisance to everybody. Tell me, when will you realize that the world doesn't revolve around the three of you?"

Hermione's anger mounted at his words. She was about to fire back when Harry stopped her. His jaw clenched and eyes ablaze, Harry stood abruptly.

"We had to stop you, how are we to know that you are not jeopardizing everyone at Hogwarts!"

"Because I was a Death Eater?" Draco's voice was almost inaudible. A white noise but as forceful as shattering glass.

"No. Despite your accusation, it is, as a matter of fact, you who had always done things that are solely for your best interest." Harry's tone was calm and yet determined. Hermione was amazed he had taken in control of himself in a situation it is acceptable to lose one's temper.

"I am the only one my parents got, Potter! Whatever the minister said he'll do, do you think he will favor former Death Eaters like us? If anything, they will use my parents as bloody baits!"

"Kingsley will never do that!"

"Exactly how dim-witted are you?!"

At that, Harry's expression changed from composed to livid and neither Ron nor Hermione had expected his next reply. "Or maybe you're right. I hope he does."

As quick as the words escaped Harry's mouth, a heavily ornate candelabrum flew out of Draco's hand aimed at him. Harry was able to sidestep avoiding the brass metal by few centimeters only for it to knock the oversized jar right behind him. There was a loud crash as the glass hit the floor and the winged creature contained in it flew out of the broken fragments like a swarm of blue wasps. Ron was beside his two friends in a flash, putting a protective arm around Hermione to shield her from the multitude of bats that seems to multiply at every second. Soon after the crash, the entire Transfiguration room is filled with it, flying frenziedly all around, gnashing at the tapestries and knocking over anything in its path.

Hermione fumbled at her pocket and cursed under her breath when she clutched nothing but air and cloth, realizing Professor McGonagall had their wands. She crouched with her hands over her head as a flock of bats flew over clawing at her hair, beside her the other three are doing the same, they are dodging and blocking the creatures with their arms as they try to squat them away.

"They're multiplying!" Ron cried out helplessly.

"If I am not mistaken, these are Goblin bats! And yes they do tend to multiply!" Hermione shouted between the sounds of leathery wings flapping and cloth ripping as the creatures focused in on them, tearing at their robes.

"This is not the time for a lecture, Hermione!" Harry responded.

"No! I've read about them! What I'm trying to say is—" A bat missed her flailing arms and flew straight to her face leaving a shallow cut across her cheek, Hermione winced in pain. "—they're afraid of fire!"

"How are we going to make a fire? We don't have our wands!" said Ron, he too is covered in scratches.

"Must you state the obvious Weasley?" Draco shouted. He was striking the air for the bats like they were flies using an old Transfiguration book he grabbed from one of the shelves. He took one good aim and swayed his hand in front of him hitting a goblin bat squarely. It fell on the floor with a muted thud and as though orchestrated, the entire swarm froze midair. Hermione dreaded what is next to come, she knew how vicious these creatures can be but most of all, how vengeful they are if someone hurt one of their kind. Draco looked confused at the sudden stillness, he glanced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione who were all standing nervously not far from him. After a second, the bats moved. They dashed towards Draco, his eyes wide in panic, enveloping him to a deadly swarm.

She didn't know where she got the sudden protectiveness, but as soon as she saw Draco's fearful look before his body disappeared among the army of goblin bats, Hermione leaped out of her feet to save him. Harry and Ron both threw their bodies to block her from going in but she managed to escape their firm grasp. A red glow emanated from Hermione's skin as she threw herself at the swarm. It slithered in the air in ribbons of light and soon after, all the goblin bats lay paralyzed all over the floor where she was bent on her hands and knees with a half-conscious Draco laying underneath. Hermione let herself fall back in a sitting position, while Harry and Ron attend to her. It was not the first time she used wandless magic, but still, she wasn't completely confident with her ability to do so. But as she glazed her eyes over Draco, with his robes torn in so many places and his skin covered with deep red scratches, she felt glad that it worked.

"Mione, are you alright?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Yes, I'm fine! Quick, call Professor McGonagall, it will only last for fifteen minutes before these devils become mobilize again." Hermione ordered her voice hasty and panicky. "And Ron, go and fetch Madam Pomfrey, tell her—"

Draco used his elbows to push himself up, his face contorted in pain. "No need." He said, but Harry and Ron were out of the door. He looked around at the stunned bats surrounding them then to his frayed robes and to Hermione.

"What did you do?"

"That was only an imitation of fire. A real fire would kill them, I merely paralyzed their body. It was the first time I used it, we're lucky it worked." Hermione's words came out in a rush, she catched a glimpse of Draco looking baffled out of the corner of her eye.

"No. I meant, what did you do?" Draco repeated, louder this time.

Hermione looked up and met his gaze, he was referring to her unexpected action of saving him. "I don't know." She heard herself say, and it was the truth.

Draco's eyes fell on the cuts she too acquired, landing on the red line on her left cheek, but that was nothing compared to his. Her hair was in a mess, but then when was it never, she had her eyes transfixed on her fingers which she used to fiddle the ends of her shirt as she became uncomfortable under his gaze and her expression an absolute riddle. Here she was, the only witch to ever criticize him, the one who always have an answer to his jest even before he was done talking, the girl who without a second thought punched and hexed him, sitting beside him meekly and utterly confounded. His eyebrows crossed deeply at the thought.

"I think, Gryffindor reflex." Hermione offered, but even she knows how ridiculous that sounds. Beside her Draco scoffed, she heard him mutter something like "completely mental" as he stood up to examine their surroundings.

The light from the moon illuminated the dust settling on the floor, Hermione fell into a daze as she watched the tiny particles sashay the room. It slightly blurred Draco's figure that was walking limply by the tall window. They are perfectly aware that time is slowly slipping, in a few minutes Harry and Ron will be back with Professor McGonagall.

Finally, Hermione willed her mind and stood up. "Harry didn't mean what he said."

"Don't clean up after Potter's mess!" He scowled.

"He is only human, just like you. You provoked him and don't deny you wouldn't act the same, you'll hit him with a metal holder for Merlin's sake."

"How dare you compare me to him? We are nothing alike!"

"Oh, but you are. You are both pressured into something since you were a child with a reputation to uphold and being constantly scrutinized by people who barely know you. You have a lot in common more than you think." Hermione couldn't see him with his back turned to her, but she can sense a deep frown forming in his face.

"And you know these things about me because?"

"I just happen to be a good observer."

Draco turned to face her with a raised eyebrow.

There was a stark silence, to which Hermione was battling herself whether she will let her defenses fall down and let the questions that had been nagging her brain for days come out. After a moment's hesitation, she continued. "Why didn't you tell me? Harry told me a few days ago! Yes I know, Malfoy. You didn't really betray Dumbledore's Army, you should've at least warned me!"

"What difference will it make? Plus I sort off thought you will figure it out, with you being a good observer and all." Draco derided, his face solemn matching the coldness in his tone. But behind the pretenses, somehow he felt a weight lifted at her knowing the truth. "But I guess I'm wrong."

"W-What difference?" She repeated her voice rising in frustration. "Oh I—very well, Malfoy."

"Why are you upset?" He asked nonchalantly.

"What difference will it make? Obviously you don't care about what I think, and why should you? It's just right. Don't mind me please."

She saw Draco's frown deepening. He opened his mouth to speak but stop abruptly as Professor McGonagall's voice turn up in the hallways.

"I left you for less than an hour and this happened." They heard the headmistress say along with the sound of two sets of footsteps. In no more than a minute, the agitated Witch came into view, she glanced at the two students standing awkwardly in the middle of the rubble. "My dear! Are you badly hurt Mister Malfoy?" She asked.

"No Professor, there is no need to call Madame Pomfrey, these are mere scratches." Draco replied, his eyes still on Hermione.

McGonagall muttered a spell and at the wave of her wand, the goblin bats hover in the air and floated back to a new jar. "Wingardium Leviosa" she pronounced, and it flew back to a shelf tucked safely in its place.

"Here we are! I'm sorry we took so long!" Ron appeared in the doorway, catching his breath and clutching at the heavy wooden door. The school nurse followed behind him, she was clearly having difficulty running due to old age.

"Quick Pomfrey please attend to Mister Malfoy, attacked by goblin bats." McGonagall explained, beckoning the old lady towards the hesitant Slytherin.

"I told you I'm fine." Said Draco as he tried to dismiss Madame Pomfrey by waving off his hand but the witch was relentless. She got hold of Draco's robes and pulled him to a corner, inspecting his scratches.

"Stop thrashing like a little girl will you? These wounds may be infectious, I need to check them before I let you go." Madame Pomfrey said as she looked closely at Draco's face.

McGonagall ushered the other three in the middle of the room and eyed them apprehensively, her lips closed in a tight line.

Harry was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, it was my fault Professor."

"What am I to do with all of you?" She peered at him over her spectacles and stared blankly.

Usually, Hermione would be ready to reason but at the moment she seemed to be too preoccupied. She only noticed what was happening when Harry had nudged her elbow and regarded her with concern. Hermione replied with a tiny shrug of her shoulders before refocusing her attention to the Headmistress.

"Excuse me, Minerva." Madame Pomfrey interrupted. "The boy is fine, I gave him a potion incase the wounds get infected. Other than that all he needed is a good night's rest."

"Thank you, I'll send them to their chamber at once."

Madame Pomfrey nodded and turned to leave.

"Here are your wands." McGonagall started, handing them each of their own. "I suppose you need them back even though it seems like with or without them you are capable of causing trouble as much."

Draco is the only one who didn't drop his gaze to the floor out of guilt. The goblin bats had made a good job of using his skin as a canvass.

"You may go back to your bedchambers." Said the Headmistress, as she let out a long-troubled sigh.

The three obeyed the orders at once because first they were tired and second they wanted to leave before Professor McGonagall remember to punish them or extend their detention when she had clearly forgotten to, or at least that's what they thought because the following day they would be given a twenty-page essay about Hogwart's rules and policies.

Both Harry and Ron were too tired to notice the tension that grew between Hermione and Draco before they go their separate ways, the two shared a brief look until Hermione turned away. Everything that happened tonight including their little banter was all but confusing to both of them. And even though they feel a certain tug of curiosity in their minds, they feel it unnecessary to act on the thoughts. For example, Hermione wanted to find out what Draco was about to say before Professor McGonagall and Harry came in the room but normally that wouldn't be the case, right? Since when was she interested in anything Malfoy would say? Then there's Draco who is presently dying to ask her why she cared or want him to care about what she thinks of him but insisting in denying he has so much as a sliver of interest towards her. So they stayed like that, on the surface, neither diving nor going out of the water, floating mindlessly in the sea of emotions.

Draco watched her move farther and farther into the darkness. Good. He thought. This is easier. It's true that he came back to redeem himself, at one point he had really wanted to clear his name especially to her, but he found it unrealistic, inconvenient even. Merlin knows he doesn't need another problem. Especially not in the form of Hermione Granger.


End file.
